


Sleepless in Soho

by LadyWallace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale finally sleeps, Crowley is a good friend, Depression, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Snake!Crowley - Freeform, Wing Grooming, friendship feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 08:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24348343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: Sometimes Aziraphale really starts to feel the weight of the world and the fact he can't help everyone in need. But Crowley is there to make sure he doesn't fall too far into the darkness. Hurt/comfort, Friendship (Gen)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77





	Sleepless in Soho

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Request fic for Whiskerdrops based on a headcanon she posted on Tumblr. I hope this has the fluffy feels you were looking for :)
> 
> Original post here: https://whiskerdrops.tumblr.com/post/617504372958560256/good-omes-headcanon-when-aziraphale-is-the-one-in

It was rainy, of course, and cold on top of that. Aziraphale pulled his coat around himself more tightly, huddling into the scarf wrapped around his neck. Perhaps he couldn't really feel the cold physically, but it still nipped at him as he strode slowly back toward his bookshop.

January was always hard. The new year should be a joyful thing, but most of the time it was cold and bitter, and the joy of the holidays had long worn off, leaving people falling into darkness and depression again. Apparently Aziraphale was no different.

He couldn't really explain it, only that sometimes, he felt like he was staring into a black hole and it was drawing him in, threatening to consume him. It just seemed like there were so many people who needed help and he could only feasibly manage to assist very few of them.

That didn't stop the prayers from coming in though.

All angels could hear the prayers humans sent out; it was like a police radio constantly on in the background of their minds. Aziraphale liked to have it on so he could hear any humans praying for help in his vicinity, but sometimes, the constant pain and pleading hurt more than anything. Listening to so many people in need could wear on Aziraphale's soul, pulling him down.

He'd told this to Gabriel once, wondering if any of the other angels felt this way, and he should have known better. Gabriel had simply told him it wasn't his problem to help everyone. Just to focus on whatever job he had at hand. As if it were that easy, but, then again, maybe it was for the other angels. Aziraphale tried to take the archangel's advice, but he couldn't. He had learned long ago that he wasn't like the other angels, that he felt more, that he was more in-tuned to humans than he probably should have been. Maybe that was why it hurt him so much to have to ignore them. He tried continuously to put them out of his mind, but it never seemed to work for long, especially when he felt like this.

So, coupled with the rainy day, Aziraphale was feeling very down, and very heavy. He unlocked the door to his bookshop and drew the blinds as soon as he got inside, hanging up his damp coat and heading directly to the back of the shop where he made himself a cup of cocoa. However, even the warm, chocolatey drink did nothing to cheer him up. All he could seem to concentrate on was the constant background chatter of prayers coming in.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling utterly weary. He was startled by the sound of the phone ringing.

He almost didn't pick it up, but he pushed himself to his feet at the last minute, just in case it was important.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Angel, it's me," Crowley's voice came cheerily on the other end. "Look, it's so nasty out, I was wondering if you would mind if I came over? We could play some board games—haven't done that in a while. I have Cluedo."

"Oh, er, I'm just not sure I'm really in the mood tonight," Aziraphale said with a sigh, rubbing his head. It ached, and his neck and shoulders were stiff from the cold and the stress. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"Oh, well, okay," Crowley said. "Are you all right, Aziraphale?"

"Yes, perfectly fine," Aziraphale lied, suppressing a sigh. "Have a good night, dear."

He hung up the phone before Crowley could say any more, feeling a little bad about that, but he knew he would not be good company for the demon that night and really didn't feel like pretending.

Instead he picked up a book from his nearby desk and curled up on the couch, trying to forget everything for a little while.

It wasn't half an hour later that there was a knock on the front door of the shop.

Aziraphale, annoyed, gripped his book tighter and scowled in the direction of the door. "We're closed!" he called.

"Angel, it's me!"

The familiar voice surprised him, but he sighed and stood up, wondering why Crowley had come anyway. He went to the door and unlocked it, seeing the demon standing on the doorstep, hunched from the cold and bundled up. He pushed past Aziraphale before the angel could protest.

"Why are you here?" Aziraphale asked, "I said I—"

"Yeah, and you sounded weird, so I wanted to make sure you were okay," Crowley said with a self-conscious shrug before he slipped his glasses down and narrowed his eyes at the angel. "You are okay, aren't you? You look a little…peaky."

Aziraphale sighed and shut the door. "I'm fine."

"Well, you don't _look_ fine," Crowley said, taking his glasses off completely and tucking them into his pocket. "What's wrong, angel?"

Aziraphale shook his head as they went into the back of the shop and he sank onto the couch again. "I suppose it might seem silly to you, but I just feel…down. There are so many people who I can't help, so many things I can't make better. And I'm just so…tired." He sank back against the pillows as if to illustrate his point, his body simply giving in. he wasn't supposed to feel like this, according to Gabriel and Michael. Feeling like this was wrong for an angel. It just didn't happen.

"Sometimes I wonder if something is wrong with me, Crowley," he admitted heavily, wrapping his arms around himself. "Why am I the only angel who seems to feel this much about…about everything?"

"Did someone tell you there was something wrong with you?" Crowley asked quickly, eyes narrowing in anger.

Aziraphale sighed. Not in so many words, but Gabriel had heavily implied it on more than one occasion. Until he began to wonder himself. He'd always thought it had just been because he had spent so much time among the humans, but maybe there was actually something fundamentally wrong with him.

Crowley noted his silence and his hands clenched at his sides. "Don't listen to those feather-stuffed shirts, angel. There is nothing wrong with you. You're far better than any of them, if you ask me. A far better angel too."

"If I was, I would be able to help more," Aziraphale murmured. "It's terrible, being able to hear people calling for help and only able to actually aid a small fraction of them."

"You mean listening to prayers?" Crowley asked. "Turn it off."

Aziraphale stared at him, wide-eyed. "I can't do that! What if someone needs me?"

Crowley folded his arms over his chest. "And are you in any condition right now to help anyone?"

Aziraphale hung his head. "I can't just shut them out, Crowley."

Crowley sighed, but sat down across from the angel. "And that, angel, is why I know you're not broken. You might care _too_ much, but you care. That can't be a bad thing. Except for when it puts you into a mood like this."

"It's not a mood, it's…oh, I don't know what it is."

Aziraphale covered his face with his hands, feeling his throat close up and his eyes prick. Now he was feeling human emotions as well. There really was something wrong with him.

He felt Crowley's hand settle onto his knee, squeezing gently. "Angel, you need to rest. You've worked yourself up enough over this."

Aziraphale rubbed a hand over his face. "I can't rest. I'm not like you, I've never been good at sleep. It just doesn't work very well for me."

The demon looked at him with a pinched expression. "You can at least try it. But you need to relax. You're obviously worked up over this and it's not going to do you any good to continue to think about it."

"I don't really know where to begin," Aziraphale said sadly, feeling even more overwhelmed."

"Well…" Crowley mused, thinking. "When was the last time you had your wings groomed?"

"It's been a while," Aziraphale said, not really paying attention.

Crowley smiled. "Well, then, why don't you let me groom them?"

"Oh," Aziraphale said, understanding. "Well…I suppose that wouldn't hurt."

He materialized his wings and Crowley came to sit on the couch behind him as the angel turned his back. The demon tutted as he saw the state of Aziraphale's feathers, which made the angel feel slightly embarrassed.

"Aziraphale, do you ever groom your wings? It looks like you've gone through a whirlwind!"

"Well, er, it's not something I think about a lot," the angel protested, cheeks reddening. He knew they probably looked a mess, but it was hard to do it alone, and it wasn't like the other angels were exactly willing to help. It was too embarrassing to ask. They would likely just consider it a waste of their time.

Crowley leaned over and met Aziraphale's downturned eyes. "Angel, you don't have to feel ashamed. And you know you can always ask me."

Aziraphale couldn't say anything, overwhelmed for a moment with gratitude toward his friend. He had to clench his hands in his lap and close his eyes to hold back his currently out-of-control emotions.

Crowley's fingers were gentle and practiced as he carded them through Aziraphale's feathers, starting near his back and working his way out through the coverts and secondaries, and finally, on to his long flight feathers that were almost all ragged at the edges. Crowley worked on them carefully and dedicatedly, using the natural oils in Aziraphale's wings to smooth his feathers, allowing all the barbs to catch and make the feathers sleek and shiny again.

Aziraphale had to admit that the gentle smoothing and tugging of his feathers was quite nice and he actually did start to relax a little, the tension easing from his shoulders and back. He even closed his eyes. He really wished he could sleep, but every time he'd tried it on previous occasions, he had just simply lain awake for hours, until he had gotten up, weary of the attempt. He never used the small bed in the apartment up above his shop, in fact the bedroom was mostly used to store books and had probably gathered quite a layer of dust. He honestly envied Crowley's ability to fall asleep at will. He would love to be able to slip away for a few hours and forget everything. But perhaps angels weren't built for that sort of thing. After all, sloth was a sin, so perhaps sleep was simply not something an angel could physically achieve.

They always said there was no rest for the wicked, but Aziraphale had never thought that was true. The wicked always seemed to sleep quite well, it was the truly righteous at heart that always seemed to have trouble sleeping.

"There, that looks a lot better."

He was startled by Crowley's voice as the demon's hands left his wings. Aziraphale was somewhat saddened by the loss of contact and gave a small, disappointed sound.

Crowley smirked. "That wasn't so bad, now, was it? Feeling any more relaxed now?"

"A bit," Aziraphale replied honestly. But he still felt like there was a weight in his chest, pressing down on him.

Crowley frowned, cocking his head to one side. "How about some tea?"

Aziraphale nodded absently. Crowley's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't say anything and went to the kitchenette to get some tea.

Aziraphale was grateful for Crowley coming over and for his concern, but he didn't really know what the demon could do to help. Aziraphale didn't even know what to do to help himself, or why he felt this way in the first place. It was all just so confusing. He felt cold inside, in ways he couldn't explain. Maybe the tea would help.

However, when Crowley came back from the kitchen, Aziraphale realized he had brought cocoa instead of tea. Aziraphale was somewhat surprised.

"Cocoa?" he asked.

Crowley shrugged. "I know you like it, and you're always saying how comforting it is. Thought it might help."

The simple gesture, coupled with Crowley's obvious wish to do anything he could to help his friend, caused Aziraphale's throat to close and his lip to tremble.

Crowley set his own cup down and turned to the angel with concern. "Angel? What's wrong?"

Aziraphale gave a shuddering breath and pressed one hand to his face. "I don't know. I just feel so…heavy." He pressed his other hand to his chest. "Like I'm being weighed down by everything, and I'm tired. Of this, and of being useless, and just…just tired."

A tear slid down his cheek before he could stop it, and Crowley reached out and grabbed his wrist, squeezing insistently.

"Aziraphale, it's okay."

"No, it's not! I don't even know why I'm like this!"

He slumped and Crowley simply pulled the angel against him, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Angel, trust me, I know. I know how hard it is to be different from everyone else. But you've helped me through feeling like that too, and I want to help you now. You can't think of yourself as being less than the other angels because, trust me, you are so much more. And I know I'm just a demon, but maybe I would know something about that too."

Aziraphale sniffed, and wrapped a hand in Crowley's shirt simply to hold on to something. "I'm not sure how I can be more when I feel so…broken sometimes."

He was surprised to feel Crowley's grip on him shift and Aziraphale thought, a little sadly, that he was pulling back from the embrace, but then he felt Crowley's body shift against him and become long, and scaly. As Aziraphale watched in some surprise, Crowley shifted completely into his snake form and began to wrap himself around Aziraphale.

"Crowley, what—?"

"Shh," Crowley hissed softly. "Jussst, relax."

Crowley's long, warm coils wrapped around Aziraphale, holding him tightly, but not too tightly. Like a warm hug. The pressure and the gesture somehow managed to instantly put Aziraphale at ease, and Crowley put off a comforting warmth that seemed to relax Aziraphale almost as much as the wing grooming had earlier.

He sank back against the couch more comfortably as Crowley adjusted himself around Aziraphale so that his head was resting on the angel's chest, right under his chin.

"Isss thisss okay?" the demon asked.

Aziraphale could only nod, wrapping his arms around a couple of the coils. "Yes," he said shakily, still trying to hold his emotions in.

Crowley hissed softly, flicking his tongue against Aziraphale's chin in a comforting gesture. "It'sss okay to cry, angel. You can get it out. It'sss jussst usss here."

Aziraphale's breath hitched and before he knew it he was letting out small, gasping sounds, several tears dripping from his eyes. Crowley just squeezed tighter, as if holding Aziraphale together, and hissed softly in comforting sounds, even humming sometimes, the vibrations acting to soothe Aziraphale even further.

Once Aziraphale had worn himself out with the crying, he simply lay quietly, eyes closed, arms wrapped around Crowley's coils that were encircling him in a comforting, and even protective embrace.

Crowley raised his head, flicking his tongue out to tickle Aziraphale's jaw. "Feeling better, angel?" he hissed.

Aziraphale sighed. "A little. Perhaps." He looked up at the ceiling. "I do really wish I could sleep. I think that might make me feel better."

"Why can't you?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale shrugged. "I don't know. I have tried to before, it's just…I can never seem to get to sleep." Closing his eyes and getting transported into brief darkness usually seemed a rather frightening concept to him, but right now, he thought it actually sounded rather nice, comforting. Calming. He found himself wanting it more and more.

Crowley began to shift again, and Aziraphale felt the loss of his warmth and comfort almost immediately as he slid from around the angel and shifted back into his human shaped form, sitting on the edge of the couch, facing the angel.

"You really think sleeping would help?" Crowley asked him.

"I don't know, I've never tried it before," Aziraphale replied helplessly.

Crowley looked like he was thinking of something, biting his lip. Aziraphale sat up straighter.

"What? Is something wrong?" he asked.

Crowley turned to him. "Do you really want to try and sleep?"

Aziraphale frowned. "Well, I would like to, but I don't think it's possible, dear. I've tried on multiple other occasions and I just couldn't seem to manage it."

Crowley looked down at his hands. "Well…I could help you sleep. With my powers. If you would let me."

Aziraphale was taken aback, the instant response on his lips was 'no' but…He knew that if he said no, Crowley would think he didn't trust him, and it wasn't that, it was just…Aziraphale was scared. He'd never slept before, he didn't know if he would _like_ it, and he didn't know how he felt about having someone use their powers, even if it was the one person he truly trusted, to put him to sleep.

Crowley glanced up at him, biting his lip at Aziraphale's silence and shook his head. "Sorry, of course not, that was a silly idea."

"No, I…" Aziraphale swallowed down his insecurity and reached out to grip one of Crowley's hands in his. "I actually think it's a good idea." He took a deep breath. "I would like to try it."

Crowley glanced up, shock in his eyes. "Y-you're actually okay with the idea?"

Aziraphale gave him a small smile. "If I was going to trust anyone to help me with this, it would be you, Crowley. But…" He swallowed hard. "I just…I don't really know what to expect."

The demon turned to him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "Sleeping's really not that difficult, angel, humans do it every night, after all. I slept for a whole century, once. You probably won't even know it happened when you wake up again, and you'll likely feel quite refreshed."

Aziraphale wrung his hands slightly. "I do trust you, but…" He bit his lip. "Crowley, would you stay? While I'm asleep? I don't really want to be left alone."

The demon's eyes softened and he gave the angel a genuine smile. "Of course, angel. I won't leave your side for a second."

Aziraphale relaxed slightly and took a deep breath. "Okay, then. I suppose I would like to sleep now."

"Oh, not like that," Crowley protested and hurriedly gathered several pillows and blankets, placing them on the couch and around Aziraphale until the angel was cushioned by soft pillows under his head and had several warm, soft blankets tucked around him. "You have to get comfortable first."

Aziraphale suffered Crowley's ministrations, tucking him in and laying back, already rather comfortable. His troubles were already feeling like they were leaving him.

"Er, now what?" he asked.

"Close your eyes," Crowley told him and when Aziraphale hesitated, the demon looked at him earnestly. "You do trust me, right, angel?"

Aziraphale smiled softly and reached out to clutch Crowley's hand. "I do, Crowley. You might be the only one in this universe that I truly trust."

The demon bit his lip but he nodded. "Okay, then, close your eyes."

Aziraphale took a deep breath and finally closed his eyes completely, allowing himself to sink back against the pillows, pulling the blanket tighter around him. Crowley reached out and set his other hand on Aziraphale's forehead.

"Just sleep, angel," he whispered.

Aziraphale felt a deep calmness come over him, and he was suddenly slipping. He gripped Crowley's hand tighter, but after a second, the falling became more like soaring, wings spread through a starry night, and he relaxed, his lips curling up into a smile as he felt himself actually drifting off to sleep.

Perhaps he could get used to this after all.

One of the last things he was aware of before he let sleep take him was of Crowley shifting again and wrapping his serpentine form around Aziraphale protectively.

He was already sure that he would feel much better after he awoke, and also knew that he would be perfectly safe with the golden-eyed demon, his dearest friend, watching over him while he slumbered.


End file.
